And Julian, too, seemed suddenly doubtful whether
he had stated what was the fact. He looked closely at Valentine.
"Do you think your face has changed? Do you mean to say that?" he asked.
"I only fancied there might be a little more humanity in it, that was
all."
"Once or twice I have thought I noticed something," Julian said, still
doubtfully; "but I believe it's imagination. It doesn't stay."
"When it does, I suppose I shall be able thoroughly to appreciate all
your temptations. Don't you begin to think now it's good to have them."
"I don't know," Julian said. But he was conscious that there had come
a change in his attitude of mind towards temptation. Some men glory in
resisting temptation, others in yielding to it. Hitherto Julian had not
been able to range himself in either of these two opposed camps. He had
merely hated his faculty for being tempted. Did he entirely hate it now?
He could not say so to himself, whatever he might say to others, but
something kept him from making confession of the truth to Valentine. So
he professed ignorance of his own exact state of feeling; really, had he
analyzed his reticence, it sprang from a fine desire to give forth no
breath that might tarnish the clear mirror of Valentine's nature.
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